


Sex, Interrupted

by ImagineBeatles



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 16:58:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15538845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineBeatles/pseuds/ImagineBeatles
Summary: While on tour, Paul and John try to get it on, but find that it’s more difficult than they think.





	Sex, Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr

Paul woke up to the feeling of someone caressing his legs.  He hummed happily at the feeling, keeping his eyes closed as he leaned into the touch while at the same time relaxing into the soft hotel bed. A low chuckle came from beside him, and the calloused hand on his leg slowly moved up over his hips, his side, and his chest, gently massaging his muscles. His body didn’t even tense up when he felt a pair of lips in the crook of his neck, already being completely relaxed.

“Morning, princess,” the same voice muttered in a soft growl, and Paul hummed again in reply, not yet being awake enough to speak. He blindly reached out for the other man and pulled him closer. Slowly but surely, he got the man’s heavy body to move and lean up against him.

“Don’t you dare stop touching me now, Lennon,” Paul managed to grumble back, and John chuckled, moving his lips up to kiss the sensitive spot right behind his ear. Sure enough, the younger man moaned at the feeling and he smirked as he continued to kiss him there.

“Wasn’t planning on it, love,” he said, and Paul sighed as he cocked his head to the side, wanting to give John more room to work.

“Good.” John’s hands started exploring again, pulling at his flesh and lightly playing with the dark hairs that covered his body. It felt slightly ticklish, but in a good way and Paul let out a light moan at the feeling, his fingers pulling eagerly at John’s bicep. He loved mornings like this: waking up next to John, both still sleepy from a good night’s sleep, and both just enjoying the other’s touch and presence, them sharing lazy kisses, until they’d slowly grow more fervent, which would then lead to slow, lazy sex. It was pure perfection, in Paul’s mind, and one of the only benefits of going on tour.

“How long do we have?” he asked, gasping as John’s hot mouth closed around the shell of his ear, gently sucking and nibbling like he knew Paul liked most.

“Long enough, I hope,” John whispered in reply, and Paul smirked, finally peeling his eyes open to the golden light of the sun that shone in through their window. He turned his head and was met with the breath-taking sight of John still half-asleep beside him. His hair coloured a light red in the sunlight, and his almond brown eyes had a sleepy haze to them. His skin looked almost golden in that same morning light, making it look like he was actually shining. A lazy smile decorated his face and Paul matched it with one of his own, before reaching out and gently caressing his cheek, catching his attention and eye. They stared into each other’s eyes for a brief moment, before John leaned in and captured Paul’s lips in a simple kiss. Then John’s hands moved to grab his lover by his shoulder, and forcefully flipped them over so Paul was lying on top of him. The bassist giggled in surprise, but went with him easily, moving his legs so he was straddling the other man. Once he sat securely in his lap, he cupped John’s cheeks in both hands and pressed their lips together again for a light opened-mouth kiss, his tongue teasingly tracing John’s bottom lip. When he pulled away, John let out an annoyed little grumble.

“Tease,” he accused, but Paul only chuckled, and slowly started to kiss his way down John’s chin, to his neck, to his shoulders, his chest, and finally his adorably little tummy that Paul just found so attractive on the older man. He kissed and played with it for a little while, before moving further on until his nose bumped against the waistband of John’s underwear. He glanced up at his lover, shot him a playful wink, before taking the elastic band between his teeth. John groaned in approval as he watched Paul slowly pull it down, exposing more and more of his crotch, until his half-hard cock popped free, bumping Paul in the face. The boy jerked in surprise, and John couldn’t help but laugh at him, thinking it was the most adorable thing he’d seen in a while. When Paul shot him an angry glare in return, he reached down to caress his lover’s pretty face as an apology and gently guided him to his awaiting cock. Paul grinned at him, before lowering his gaze to John’s slowly growing erection. He licked his lips eagerly at the sight. That alone, was enough to cause John’s dick the twitch. He held his breath as Paul slowly leaned down, letting his warm breath ghost over the head, before he parted his lips and-

“John! Paul! Wake up, sleepyheads! Eppy says we need to leave soon!”

Both men groaned in annoyance and Paul dropped his head on the mattress besides John’s hips in defeat. He hands started stroking John’s thighs, and John knew what that meant. That was an apology. A promise he’d continue what he’d started later. Or what John had started, but that was only a tiny detail. John, however, didn’t want to wait.

“Piss off, Harrison!” he shouted at the closed door, his voice more croaky and weaker than he would have liked. He could hear Paul softly chuckling in slight amusement. Impatiently, John slid his fingers into Paul’s hair and pulled his head back to his crotch, wanting nothing more than to feel Paul’s hot, skilled mouth on his prick. For a moment it seemed that Paul was actually going to do it, but then the door opened.

“Oh my god! Guys! What the fuck?!” George exclaimed as he came face-to-face with the lewd image on the bed. Paul groaned and pulled back again, burying his face in the mattress out of embarrassment. Sucking a guy’s cock was one thing, but having your best mate, who you’ve known since you were both kids, seeing you do it… that was something so much worse.

“George, for fuck’s sake! You’re the one walking into our room unannounced! Knock before entering, would you?!” John shouted, reaching for a pillow to throw at George’s head, but George was quick to duck away. The pillow flew through the door opening into the living room of their suite.

“I was right outside your door! I was talking to you! A-a-and you j-just… _guys_!”

“We’ll be right there, George,” Paul suddenly spoke from the mattress, really just wanting the guitarist to leave so they could all start to pretend this had never happened. George nodded from the doorway, his gaze going from Paul to John and back again, as if his mind was still coming to terms with what he had seen.

“Ri-right… Eppy said we need to leave in twenty minutes or we’ll miss our flight. We have a busy day ahead.  Just… don’t be late. A-and stop… _this_. I’d rather spare Ringo’s virgin eyes, might he need to come in here. Jesus, guys,” George said, running a hand through his hair, face twisted up in disgust at what he had seen.

“Yes, yes, we’ll be there. Now leave!” John grumbled at George, and finally George nodded and turned around to leave. Once the door was pulled shut behind him, Paul got his head out of the mattress again and John couldn’t help but smile at the adorable sight he made. His cheeks had gone completely pink and his eyes were wide with both embarrassment and shock. John offered him a small smile as he pulled his lover up to come face to face with him.

“I’ll promise we’ll continue this some other time, yeah?” John said and Paul nodded as he knelt down besides John, shyly looking down at his legs. In an attempt to make him feel better, John sat up and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek as he ruffled the boy’s hair. Thankfully, Paul smiled back at him, and nodded before he moved to get out of bed. He stretched himself, before he went to the bathroom to freshen up and get dressed, and John eagerly took in the way the muscles of his body pulled and tightened, and the way the little hairs were lit up by the warm sunlight. God, he was perfect.

              During the drive to the airport, John and Paul kept their hands off each other, both hyper aware of all the screaming fans outside and the journalists with cameras, just waiting to get a good picture of them, preferably doing something to write about. Two of The Beatles touching inappropriately would be a dream scoop for them. Still, it was difficult, both of them feeling rather frustrated now they had been interrupted so rudely when they had just started to get it on. Neither of them had found the time to quickly take care of their needs on their own either, and both were eager to find some time for privacy during the day. But right now they needed to be the good boys Brian wanted them to be and smile and wave and say the right things at the right moments. Neither of them gave George much attention either, the embarrassment of having been caught by him in that position still being too strong.

Still, the excitement of being on tour and seeing all their fans (however crazy) was great and gave The Beatles more than enough distraction from their own little private problems. They spent the time looking out of the windows as they drove, taking everything in and pointing things out to the others they had only seen before on telly or in the papers or heard about on the radio. Their own music played almost non-stop on the radio, which was an odd experience on its own, and the girls that tried in vain to run after their cars were great fun to watch.

Too soon, they got to the airport, and were forced to wait and do nothing as they passed security, let themselves be checked in, and finally waited ever longer until they could go on board. Mal and Neil had been instructed by Brian to keep a close eye on them and make sure they didn’t misbehave. It was quite annoying, because now John and Paul couldn’t even sneak away together to find some privacy together, seeing as Mal and Neil wouldn’t allow more than one person to go to the bathroom at the time, and wouldn’t let them leave for anything else. John tried to fool them by asking if he could get something to drink while Paul was on the loo, but Mal had Neil get something for him instead. Out of spite, John hadn’t touched his drink at all and finally let Paul have it instead, while he had sulked for the rest of the wait. He had only cheered up a bit when they had been told they could get onto the plane and Paul had kissed his cheek, before they had stepped outside to wave at their fans and get onto the plane. Paul could always cheer him up.

Once they had reached their plane, John was the last one to enter, finding that Paul had taken a seat next to George and was having a laugh with him, probably about their fans or how he had almost tripped as they climbed the stairs to the plane. John huffed in disappointment, having hoped Paul and he could have sat together, and instead sat down with Ringo, who snapped a picture of him as soon as he sat down.

“Alright, Johnny?” he asked, a bright smile on his face like usual, and John nodded as he shoved his bag in one of the overhead lockers.

“Fine.”

“The American fans are crazy, aren’t they? I just saw a bird holding up this sign. You wouldn’t believe what it said,” Ringo said, eyes wide with excitement. John, however, couldn’t care less about the fans or the signs and looked over the seats at the heads of George and Paul who were still giggling together like a pair of schoolgirls.

“No, I wouldn’t,” he muttered at Ringo and got himself a newspaper to read, cutting himself off from the world. Ringo only shrugged and stared out of the little window and snapped another picture of the fans. About fifteen minutes later, they were up in the air and John had lost his newspaper to Neil who had taken a seat behind him and had found himself an interesting article to read. He and Ringo now entertained themselves by playing tic-tac-toe on a paper napkin, and slowly John started to cheer up. Hanging out with Ringo was always good fun.

              The flight wouldn’t be long. Just an hour or two at most, which wasn’t long compared to the flight from London to New York they had flown some weeks ago. Still, John quickly grew bored. After all, only playing tic-tac-toe and hangman for twenty minutes got kind of boring and then even using immature words with hangman lost its appeal. Although, coming up with them had been fun. Ringo had gone to the bathroom, and when he came back, he took the now empty seat beside George, which made John wonder where Paul had gone to. Putting on his glasses, he had a quick look around the plane, but couldn’t see him. He wasn’t even sitting next to Brian to discuss some band business, like he’d sometimes do when they were travelling, because Brian was sitting all the way at the front of the plane and was going through some paperwork of some kind. It was probably boring, so John didn’t really care. But no Paul, who seemed to like that boring shit.

He turned around to ask Neil and Mal, but they hadn’t seen him either, having been busy reading a book. John huffed in annoyance and sat back down in his seat. He nervously bit his nail as he kept an eye out for Paul. When a stewardess walked past him, he stopped her, grabbing her hand to catch her attention. The woman blushed and looked down at their hands, before glancing up at John, looking rather puzzled. John shot her a charming smile and she blushed even more.

“Tell me, love. Have you seen Paulie anywhere?” he asked her with a cheeky little wink, enjoying seeing the woman trying to hold herself together as she was being flirted with by no one other than a Beatle. She blinked at him dumbly, and it took her a while before she realised what he had asked, but when she did, she nodded.

“Paul? Yes, I saw him a few rows back. I handed him a blanket not long ago,” she explained, and John’s expression went from happy to puzzled in a matter of seconds.

“Blanket?” he asked, and the woman nodded and gestured at a row of chairs a bit further down the plane. Sure enough, John could see something bulky lying under a fuzzy blanket, and John had known Paul long enough to recognise his lover’s sleeping figure, even when he was half out of his sight and curled up under a blanket.

“Said he wanted to sleep.”

John nodded and finally let go of the woman’s hand with a nod. “Thanks, love,” he said, and with a little nod, the woman started walking away, disappearing behind a curtain where the staff hung around, probably to boast about having talked to and touched a Beatle. Normally John would have found it amusing, but now he had something else on his mind. He quickly put his glasses away, and silently started to sneak over to the sleeping figure that was his boyfriend.

              Paul lay peacefully under his blanket, slowly slipping in and out of consciousness, feeling sleep slowly taking over. He was nicely warm, the blanket being large enough to cover all of him, as long as he had his legs tugged up to his chest and his feet resting on the chair. His head, he had propped up against the back of the chair, and he had managed to find an angle that was actually not painful.

He wasn’t normally one for sleeping on a flight, mostly because he liked to do other things and keep busy or flirt with some stewardesses, but he had been too tired. The four of them had been out till late that previous evening and after they had gotten home, John had had this great idea for a song, meaning he had only had a few hours of sleep, which wasn’t very good if he still had a press conference, a sound check, and a concert waiting for him today. He needed his energy. And flying always made him slightly drowsy.

Suddenly, however, he felt something weird near his head. It was cool and it blew his hair apart. He grumbled and started hitting around his head, trying to find the source of this annoying thing that kept him from falling asleep. The cold air disappeared and Paul sighed happily and buried himself deeper into his seat. Before he could relax again, however, that strange cool air was there again. He hummed in annoyance, and tried whacking it away again. It stopped again, but quickly returned.

“Paulie. _Pauauauaulieieie_. Paul, love, wake uu-hup,” John’s voice sounded sweetly in his ear, and Paul groaned in annoyance.

“Piss off,” he grumbled back, “I’m trying to _sleeeeeep_.”

“But I’m boooored,” John said, chuckling to himself. Paul mentally rolled his eyes at him and shrugged his shoulder as John laid a hand on it.

“Go do something then. Let me sleep.”

“But I thought we could do something together,” John tried, but Paul only snaked his left hand from underneath the blanket and shot his lover his middle finger.

“Very pretty, Paul,” he said, and Paul couldn’t help but scoff at that. “Now, I know something we could do that you might want to do as well.” This seemed to get Paul’s attention, as he pulled the blanket away from his head and glanced curiously as John, who was grinning rather excitedly at him. Paul wasn’t sure if he should be scared or excited.

“I thought,” John started, leaning closer to the bassist, “that we could continue what we were doing this morning.” To underline his words, he wiggled his eyebrows. Paul, however, let out a laugh.

“John, I’m not going to let you touch me in the middle of a fucking plane, alright. Exhibitionism isn’t really my thing. Now let me sleep.”  He was about to turn away again, but John quickly grabbed his shoulder, stopping him.

“Not here, you git. In the loo,” he whispered, and Paul stared at him for a second, before he glanced behind him at the door to the little toilet, and when John noticed the little smile pulling at his lover’s lips, he knew he had got him. “Come on.” He grabbed his boyfriend by his wrist and pulled him out of the seat and with him to the toilet. He was happy to note Paul didn’t try to stop him. Meanwhile, Paul felt terrible for letting John talk him into this.

 As soon as they got to the toilets, John pulled the door open and forced Paul inside. He quickly followed him and pulled the door shut behind him with a rather loud thud. Before Paul had time to complain about them not being very discreet, John had him pressed up against the little sink and was snogging the life out of him, his hands pulling at every bit of his lover’s body as he pressed a knee between his legs. Paul let out a heated moan in both surprise and pleasure, and quickly gave over to the other man, allowing him to take control as he tried to kiss back with as much passion as he could muster.

Before he could fully get used to John’s pace, however, the older man had locked the door behind them and pulled away from Paul to lean back against it. His hand, he moved into his lover’s almost black hair and forcefully started to push him down onto his knees. Paul did so right away, knowing what his lover wanted and being more than happy to give it to him, having wanted to do it since that morning. He eagerly reached out for John’s belt and started to undo it, before working on the buttons of his slacks. He moaned when John’s hands found their way into his hair and gave a little encouraging pull, always liking it when John was a little rough with him. Once he had the buttons undone, he started to tug the man’s trousers down, pulling his underwear down with it right away. He licked his lips hungrily as John’s cock came free. He was still soft, but Paul didn’t mind, loving the feel of having John grow in his mouth. He savoured the heady groan that he pulled from John’s throat as he wrapped his fingers tightly around the shaft and pulled at it a few times.

“Christ, Macca… come on, love. Want to fuck that pretty face of yours,” the older man groaned, pulling at Paul’s hair again, and Paul’s hand faltered at his words, his cock quickly swelling in his pants at the thought of John fucking his throat. He squeezed John’s cock in his hand to keep him entertained, as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He was going to need to be relaxed if he wanted John to fuck his throat raw. Eppy was going to kill them for it, seeing as they had a gig, but even Paul couldn’t care. He swallowed thickly, closed his eyes and lightly licked a long stripe from the base of his lover’s cock all the way up to the head, where he wrapped his lips around it, taking him into his mouth with a moan.

“Oh yes… fuck, Macca,” John groaned as he cocked his head back to rest against the door. Before Paul could do anything else, however, the plane began to shake, causing Paul to fall forward, John’s cock shooting all the way to the back of his throat, causing him to gag. He quickly pulled off, nearly hit his head against the sink, and started coughing violently. The plane continued to shake, and John needed to hold onto Paul to keep himself steady. Not three seconds later, the intercom sounded.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats. We seem to be experiencing some turbulence. The captain will try to-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” John groaned in complaint, and Paul could only agree.

“Let’s just get back to our seats,” he said, coughing again at the soreness of his throat, and carefully got up to his feet. John nodded and quickly pulled his trousers back up, as he watched Paul with amusement, secretly finding what happened rather funny. Not that he’d tell Paul that. He’d kill him.

“Yeah… maybe we’ll get through it quickly,” he said, trying to sound normal, and Paul managed to croak out a yes, as he reached for the door and unlocked it. John smirked in amusement.

“You okay?” he asked, but Paul only shot him his middle finger again, and went back to his seat. John chuckled and checked himself before following him.

              They didn’t get another chance during the flight. The turbulence seemed to have been caused by some bad weather, and once they got out of it, they needed to remain in their seats as they would land soon. At least, Paul hadn’t tried to sleep again, and instead had managed to keep John busy, mostly by doing some work and changing the set list around a little for that evening’s gig. In the end, the flight hadn’t been that bad, although both of them wished they could have continued their little moment in the bathroom instead.

Once they got safely to the ground, they were led outside and some people escorted from the plane to the airport, as they were greeted by hundreds of fans, screaming their names - although, they could have been screaming anything, as they really could not distinguish any words at all. Paul kept John close to him, guiding him around as John always refused to wear his glasses around other people, but he didn’t mind so much, liking the excuse to touch him more than was strictly necessary. They managed to get inside without any problems and luckily getting through security went a lot quicker this time. Their luggage would be taken care of, so they were pushed outside and into a fancy car and driven off to their hotel, where they would be allowed to freshen up, before they had the press conference. John had his hand on Paul’s inner thigh for the entire ride. Or at least, until Paul took his hand in his own and simply held it.

The hotel wasn’t as fancy as they had hoped, and they had only two double rooms to share, both with a simple bathroom. John was about to force Paul into one of them, having decided they would of course share, and could perhaps finish what they had started on the plane if they were quick, when Brian called them back.

“Where do you think you’re going, Lennon?” he asked, and John cocked his head at him, looking at him dumbly.

“What do you think, Eppy? I’m going to show him my fucking stamp collection, of course,” he joked, and Paul giggled beside him. Brian, however, couldn’t see the humour of it.

“I don’t think so, John. You have two minutes to get changed and if you’re not here by then, I’ll drag you both out of that room in whatever it is you’re dressed in and you can go explain that to the press yourself, you hear me?” John rolled his eyes, but nodded anyway, knowing better than to call Brian’s bluff. You just never knew with that man.

“Come on, John. Let’s go get changed,” Paul said, taking John by his hand and dragging him with him into their bedroom, not wanting his lover to start an argument. John obediently followed him, surprising Brian especially.

As soon as they were behind closed door however, Paul pulled John to him for a heated kiss, his hands coming up to caress the back of John’s neck. John moaned in surprise, but relaxed into the kiss almost immediately, parting his lips for Paul and curling his tongue around the one that snaked its way into his mouth. His body reacted quickly, growing hotter with each lick of Paul’s tongue and nip of his teeth. When the younger man pulled off, John was left almost breathless, and Paul smiled smugly at him.

“Just a little preview for what you’ll get after we get back here for dinner,” he said with a wink, and John nearly growled in frustration when his lover suggestively ran his fingers down his tie, before turning around and disappearing into the bathroom to splash some water on his face, leaving John alone to catch his breath.

              The tension during the press conference was more than obvious, with the way the two Beatles kept looking at each other, shooting each other annoyed and heated glances that most of the press interpreted as there being some kind of animosity between the two partners, while the truth was far more interesting. Because John hadn’t liked the way Paul had left him in their hotel room after that wonderful snog, and was now trying to get the same effect on Paul. He kept touching him, caressing his thigh, rubbing his foot (thank god for the long tablecloth they had put over the table they were sitting at that reached all the way down to the floor), running his hand down Paul’s back, and squeezing his bum. All without anyone apart from Paul noticing, of course. Once, he had even managed to cup Paul’s crotch, before the lad had angrily slapped his hand away. It was great fun, and John knew what kind of an effect he was having. The angry looks he got in return and the fact that both his leg and his hand would be blue by the end of the evening was completely worth it.  

So, no animosity. Just extreme sexual frustration and a bit of naughty fun to kill time.

Brian, however, did seem to notice there was something going on. Although, he couldn’t see the shared touches and the way Paul was now trying to do the same thing to John in revenge, he could see the looks and the hisses that came from Paul’s mouth, and he _knew_ there wasn’t even a drop of animosity between them. Just… sexual tension. He tried to make them cut it out - whatever it was they were doing - but there was only so much he could do from the side, but it was still annoying. Both Paul and John were glad when someone tapped Brian on the shoulder and dragged him away somewhere else.

It was also the time that Paul came up with an idea. He tapped John’s shoulder, whispered to him to follow his example, and called over the person who was in charge of the press conference. He made up some bullshit excuse about not feeling well and needing to go to the bathroom. John quickly caught on and suggested to come with him, in case Paul needed help. The guy bit his lip and thought about it, but eventually agreed to let the two go, as long as they promised they wouldn’t be gone for longer than a minute or two. They quickly agreed, even though they both knew they weren’t going to keep that promise, and quickly hurried off.

They wandered around the unfamiliar building for a short while, searching for a place to hide. Finally, Paul spotted a broom closet and quickly dragged John with him without a word, eager to get on with it, having been half-hard throughout the conference thanks to the idiot he called his lover. He practically threw John inside and only just managed to close the door behind himself, before John had him with his front pressed against the wall. John’s body fully covered his own, and right away the older man started thrusting his hips into Paul’s arse, while he buried his face in the crook of Paul’s neck to suck and lick at the skin. Paul groaned at the forcefulness, and tried moving with John, allowing him to rut against him like a dog in heat.

“Fucking hell, John…” he moaned as John gave a sudden violent thrust, fucking Paul all the way up against the wall, as he slipped a hand to Paul’s front to rub his cock through his slacks.

“Don’t leave any marks or Eppy will kill us in the most gruesome way imaginable.” John chuckled against Paul’s skin, but took note of what his lover had said, knowing that the exaggeration wasn’t as strong as one would think. He stopped sucking and nibbling, and simply kissed his way to Paul’s shoulder, his free hand moving to undo the buttons of Paul’s shirt to expose some hidden skin.

“I fucking hate you, though,” Paul groaned as he turned his head so his cheek was resting against the wall, pushing his arse out to allow John a better angle. “You nearly gave me a fucking boner during that interview. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it would have been if I’d gotten a full on boner by the end of it?”

“Shut up. The girls would love it,” John grumbled in return, speeding up his thrusts and his hand movements, wanting to do this quick. Paul snorted at the comment.

“No. You’d love it,” he replied with a cheeky smirk, which quickly vanished when John squeezed his dick through his pants.

“Same bloody thing.”

“You know you just called yourself-” Paul started, but John quickly interrupted him, with a forceful thrust against his arse. Fuck, he loved that arse.

“Don’t care. Now, shut up or talk dirty if you need to open that pretty mouth of yours. I want to do this before-”

“John Lennon, stop what you’re doing and open the door. I know you’re in there!” Brian’s voice suddenly bellowed through the door and John grumbled a curse as he slumped against Paul in defeat.

“How the fuck does he-”

“Magic, John. Stupid, annoying, manager magic.”

              They didn’t go back to the hotel anymore. After the remaining conference, they were put into another car and driven to the theatre they would perform at for a sound check, which consisted mostly of waiting first for them to be able to start and then to finally get to leave again. Then, they were put into the car again and driven to some fancy restaurant to meet and have dinner with some unimportant important people, before they were driven back to the theatre, where they changed and were helped with the make-up, before they were left with some time to run through some last things and make sure their instruments were in tune. It took ages, with little else to do except that. John and Paul weren’t allowed to leave at all anymore after their unprofessional escape from the press conference, and seeing as they only had one large dressing room they could all use, they had no time for just the two of them. They made do with their time by playing cards with the others and just messing around in general. But the longer they waited, the more the long day weighed on them, making them tired.

During the gig, however, they were pumped up with energy. Adrenalin rushed through their bodies as they sang and performed for their screaming and over-excited fans, some of whom fainted or wetted themselves at the sight of their idols, not believing they were actually real. It was crazy, but wonderful and such great fun. The band gave it their all, the feedback from the audience being great, and sometimes they could even hear themselves. All the songs went great, and even by the end of it, they were still psyched up with energy. They jumped around and joked around like a gang of idiots, and Paul even managed to get a piggyback ride from Mal to the car.

On their way back to the hotel, the energy started to slip away as the adrenaline did. They slumped in their seats and talked some more in hushed voices. Ringo fell asleep halfway there, the drive being longer than anticipated with some light traffic, and Paul had been about to doze off too for a moment as he rested with his head on John’s shoulder. John had about to just let him sleep, thinking his lover looked adorable with his pink cheeks and his mouth half-open as he slept, but then remembered that Brian had told them they had an even busier day ahead tomorrow, with a photo shoot and another concert, as well as meeting more people. They weren’t going to get even half an hour to themselves, so they wouldn’t be able to continue what they had tried to continue so many times this day. And who knew what they’d have planned for the others days to come. This was the night, and he needed Paul awake. Thankfully, Paul wasn’t upset with him for keeping him awake, wanting this just as much as John did.

              “God, I’m exhausted!” George yawned as they walked down the hallway to their rooms. Ringo skipped happily behind him, a large smile on his face, that seemed so odd to the sour, exhausted looks to other three were sporting.

“I’m feeling quite awake! Game of poker anyone?” he excitedly suggested. The other three groaned at the mere suggestion.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Ritch? Brian said we had to get up early in the morning. I need my beauty sleep, alright?” George retorted and yawned again. Ringo shrugged and looked expectantly at John and Paul, who gave each other an awkward look.

“Sorry, mate. Other plans,” John muttered, and Ringo looked at them with questioning eyes. John had just been about to open his mouth to explain, when George quickly tugged at Ringo’s arm and pulled him to the door of their shared room.

“You don’t need to know about that, Ritchie. Come on, then. One game, but if I win you’ll make me food for the rest of the week whenever I want it,” he told him.

“And what do I get if I win?” Ringo asked, looking rather like an excited puppy. Paul could already imagine the wagging tail and the two floppy ears on his head. He’d look cute as a dog, he guessed. Then again, he was probably just sleep deprived.

“You’ll get a smack in the face if you win and you’ll make me food, anyway,” George decided, a grin on his face, and before Ringo could object to that terrible price, he was pulled into their room and the door was thrown shut. John and Paul shot each other a knowing look, before quickly disappearing into their own room.

              As soon as they were alone, they couldn’t keep their hands of each other, finally being allowed to touch each other and kiss and do whatever without having to worry about anyone walking in on them and telling them to stop. For once they were alone, in a hotel room, with a large double bed. Nothing could go wrong now.

John slowly guided Paul to the bed, kissing him all the way, as he let his hands tug Paul’s dress shirt from his slacks, so he could slip his hand under it and feel Paul’s bare skin. It felt good to touch, being able to take his time now, while Paul started to move his hand down John’s lower back to rest at his arse, giving it a squeeze as he giggled into his lover’s mouth.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he muttered as he pulled away, looking John deeply in the eye as he carefully stepped backwards towards the bed until his thighs hit the frame. Slowly, he sat himself down and pulled John down with him, letting him straddle him, his knees on either side of him on to the bed, as he took John’s chin between thumb and pointer finger and brought him closer for another kiss. John went with him easily, wanting it as much as Paul, and let his eyes fall close as he kissed back. He gently pushed Paul down onto the bed, and moved them up higher, so their legs weren’t dangling down, before moving his hands to undo the buttons of Paul’s shirt. As soon as he had exposed one of Paul’s nipples, he bowed down and took it into his mouth, circling it with his tongue as he suckled.

“Ugh… shit…” Paul moaned, running a hand through his hair as he arched his back into the feeling, always loving it when John would do that to him. None of the girls ever paid them any attention. That is, except for John, who he had said so himself was a girl. He chuckled at his own joke.

“Now,” John said as he looked up to meet Paul’s hazy eyes. “Since you suck at giving blowjobs, I will do the honours for you and show you how it’s done.” He winked playfully at him as he moved his hands to take off his own slacks clothes and then the rest of Paul’s, before crawling between the boy’s legs.

“Not fair. I kept being interrupted!” Paul complained.

“Not an excuse,” John simply answered, and Paul laughed at that, but was soon groaning as John curled a hand around Paul’s cock and lowered his mouth onto it. It felt good, John’s mouth being hot and wet, and although his movements were languid and not very skilled, seeing as they were both exhausted, it was still more than pleasurable. Paul leaned back on the bed and closed his eyes as he started to run his fingers through John’s hair, massaging his scalp. It felt so good to finally get this and being allowed to let the pleasure take over completely, simply enjoying it and not worry about anything. He yawned again and buried his head into his pillow a little more as he relaxed under John’s touch. The world seemed to slow down around him, and slowly he felt himself melt into the soft bed, as his consciousness started to fade away.

“You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?” John suddenly asked from beside him, and Paul weakly opened his eyes with a faint smile, pretending he had been awake all the while and had realised he had moved. John still had his hand wrapped around his cock and was slowly stroking him as he peppered his chest and shoulders with kisses.

“Hmmm… I’m awake,” Paul muttered back with another yawn, and tried to keep his eyes open but couldn’t.

“You’d better, McCartney,” John murmured with a loud yawn of his own, and Paul had been about to tell him he’d better not do the same to him, but he already found himself unable to, the world having fallen away. John, however, was too far gone to notice.

              When John opened his eyes again, it was already light, and he could hear shouting coming from the room next to them. Ringo and George’s room. Probably about the poker game. Or so it sounded. He groaned and rubbed his eyes as he pulled his head out of the squishy, yet firm thing he had used as a pillow. It didn’t feel pillow-like, anyway. He grinned to himself when he realised he had been sleeping on Paul’s stomach. Not a second later, however, the smile was traded in for a loud groan as he shouted out a curse word.

“Goddamnit!”

“I’m awake! I’m awake! I’m not sleeping. Feels really good, John! I’m totally awake!” The body beneath him jerked violently awake, nearly causing John to fall off him as he sat up.

“Don’t fucking bother, Macca. It’s already morning. We fell asleep. Damnit!” John growled, turning his head to look at the dishevelled bedroom head of his boyfriend, and a tiny smile crept onto his face.

“What? I thought you were angry. Why are you smiling? Do I… did George draw a dick on my head?”

“No, you git. And that was me.” Paul gasped at the confession and turned his body away from him as he pouted.

“I’m not talking to you anymore,” he said, and John snickered.

“Then what are you doing now?”

“I’m ignoring you.”

“By answering my questions?”

“Exactly. Now, why were you smiling?” Paul asked, keeping his eyes stubbornly on one of the walls. John rolled his eyes at him and moved to kneel by his lover’s face and gently pressed his lips to the boy’s cheek.

“You just looked really adorable,” he said, and Paul blushed at the compliment.

“I’m not adorable.”

“Yes, you are. And also very, very, very sexy,” John said and kissed Paul’s cheek again. When he pulled away, though, Paul turned his head and kissed him on the lips himself. John smiled into it, suddenly feeling really happy again, even if they had fallen asleep on each other.

“Speaking of,” Paul started as he pulled away and started propping himself up against the headboard. “What are we going to do now? You know, sex-wise?” John thought about it for a while, before shrugging.

“Do it anyway and hope Brian won’t drag us out of the hotel naked?” he suggested, already snickering. Paul pretended to think about it, weighing out the many positives (sex) and negatives (public nudity) in his mind, making a whole show of it to get John to laugh. In the end, he still shook his head ‘no’.

“However sexy and adorable you might think I am when I’m naked, I’m not sure I’m ready to become a full-time nudist,” he said.

“Good, because you’re also sexy and adorable when you’re dressed and dolled up for me.”

“You’re an idiot,” Paul said with an affectionate smile, never quite knowing how to act when John called him any of those words. He wished he could make him feel the exact same way, though he wasn’t as good with compliments as John was. He always just managed to sneak them into a joke. Paul always thought that was clever.

“Says the guy who’s a wannabe nudist.”

“Don’t make fun of my lifestyle choices, Johnny. It’s not nice.”

“Oh really, I wouldn’t mind. Then I’d get to see you naked all the time. Would save us a lot of time getting you naked too. You’d just be ready for me,” John joked but Paul frowned at that.

“That’s… kind of disturbing.”

“Ah! But is it, though?”

“Yes, John. Yes, it is,” Paul said without a second thought and John nodded in understanding. They stayed silent for a while, until they could hear some soft noises coming from outside their door.

“Please don’t be having sex. Please don’t be having sex. Please don’t be having sex,” they could hear George mutter to himself. They both fought the urge to laugh, and instead pulled the covers over themselves to spare their friend the awkwardness of having to see his friends naked together.    

“Come on in, Geo. We’re not having sex!” Paul called out and both he and John couldn’t help but laugh as it suddenly got really quiet behind their door.

“Erm… I’ll err… I’ll just erm… stay here… behind the door… not in the room… oh god,” George called back, and Paul buried his face in John’s shoulder to muffle his laughter. “I’m just letting you know we ought to be down for breakfast in forty minutes!”

John and Paul turned to stare at each other. Breakfast. Forty minutes. They didn’t have to say a word to know the other was thinking the exact same thing as he was. Not wanting to waste another valuable second, they jumped out of the bed and started gathering their shower supplies, not forgetting to grab a pair of clean undies to wear after.

“We er… We’ll be on time! Just… don’t come in for a while, okay?” John shouted at George, who shouted a quick goodbye before they could hear him run back to his own room. They chuckled at their friend, before disappearing into the bathroom for a hot, steamy shower for two, and this time, there was no one to interrupt anything.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was graciously imported from tumblr by [CJD](https://chut-je-dors.tumblr.com/) who is a good friend and overall pretty amazing. Suck it, Puck


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